One need not have participated in an ultra-marathon to have an inkling that this likely involves running for a long, long time.

In that sense, a Backyard Ultra (as was run this past weekend at Kivi Park) shares certain similarities – but it’s the uniqueness of the event that creates an atmosphere that is not all that easy to duplicate.

As I stopped by to check in (around supper time on Saturday) on the 70 or so brave souls who had started their journey early that morning, I was struck by both the festivity of the environment, as well as the entourage of supporters and well-wishers who were a key part of this race.

First, some perspective.

Where a typical ultra might involve covering a set distance (anything longer than a standard marathon seemingly qualifies as an ultra) or involves covering as much distance as possible in a pre-determined time limit (somewhat akin to the old 24 Hour Relay from which I still proudly hold on to my 5-man winning team medal, having covered 36 miles each), the Backyard morphs in a different direction.

Runners have one hour to complete a 6.706 kilometre circuit, but cannot begin their second lap until the top of the next hour, at which point all runners must start again in unison – with the winner essentially being the last man/woman standing.

Why 6.706 kilometres, you ask?

This event was first designed to allow runners to complete 100 miles in 24 hours – and working your way backwards metrically, so to speak, created this loop that requires a bit of a goofy measurement.

For the record, Michael Rouleau emerged as the winner, completing his 25th loop (167.65 km - for those who are curious) some time early Sunday morning, outlasting Eric Smith of Stratford by exactly one lap, with Helen Francis emerging as the top woman with 23 laps of her own.

In chatting with several people involved, from competitors to organizers and support staff, a recurring theme emerged in terms of how best to approach the race strategy when you are dealing with athletes who, for the most part, can comfortably complete the one lap distance in well under the one hour limit.

“You don’t want to do it too fast; you don’t want to do it too slow,” said 40 year old Helena Marques, a native of Portugal who moved to Canada some 14 years ago and completed her first ever marathon this past May in Sudbury. “You want to do it with 10 to 15 minutes left; time to eat, change shoes, change clothes.”

And maybe rest a little, one would think.

The first person I met as I neared the gathering of tents and hooting and hollering and music that awaited visitors to Kivi Park, Marques entered with a very modest family-oriented goal – which she surpassed.

“I told the kids (her husband was entrusted with caring for all four as she cracked the 50km barrier for the very first time) that if I did five laps, we would go to Dairy Queen,” she said with a smile. “I ended up doing eight, which was not too bad.”

While the bulk of participants were local, the inaugural Sudbury Backyard Ultra also drew from Stratford (as noted), Sault Ste Marie, Chapleau, St Catharines, Port Sydney, Peterborough, North Bay and Burlington – the latter easy enough to postulate given a tent that was emblazoned with the Burlington Running Club logo.

With all runners, including Jakob Brooks, out on the trails as I meandered in, it was his mother (Dina), a member of the Burlington Club board and staunch supporter of her son who provided a bit of a lay of the land in how they came to be spending the weekend in Sudbury.

“He (Jakob) wanted to do a backyard ultra in Ontario and this came up and sounded amazing, so he decided to do it,” she said. With a handful of marathons and ultras under his belt, Brooks (the runner) had already noted a uniqueness to the challenge while he was still quite early into what would be a 100km+ jaunt.

“He says that it’s quite different,” said Dina. “The stopping and going is harder and you need to think about nutrition differently.”

Ironically, according to the 27 year-old who started cross-country running in grade three but never emerged as anything close to elite in the sport – “my high-school team would make OFSAA but I wasn’t in the top five, even on my high-school team” – the strain of the Backyard lies in the format and in the mindset that is required.

“The 100-mile race was less psychologically demanding,” noted Brooks on Sunday evening, beginning to wind down from his weekend adventure. “It was point to point, so you’re going somewhere new every step of the way.”

“You weren’t resting ever for 10-15 minutes, so you just wanted to keep going and going and going. Psychologically, this race was so much harder. When you got up from that chair (to start the next lap), your muscles were cold. You would start and feel your quads warm up and there was so much pain.”

Time to cue race organizer Andre Dumais and his wonderful group of enthusiastic volunteers, those folks entrusted with providing that ray of light in the midst of the darkness of running laps from midnight through until 6:00 a.m. or so – and beyond.

“The allure to this, first of all, is the atmosphere,” said Dumais. “There’s a camp that you come back to every hour. The bells are ringing, there’s a lot of cheering, and music is playing. It’s a bit like a festival.”

As I quickly found out, it’s also an atmosphere that non-participants with no ties to the runners could quite enjoy.

“It’s incredibly spectator friendly because it’s a new race every hour,” Dumais continued. “There are places on the course where you see them pass by three more times (per lap). We’re just setting up now with a party crew at that point.”

Debbie Francoeur also did not run the race, though her 22 year-old daughter, Danika Potvin, most certainly did, covering 16 laps to outlast the 100km goal she had set for herself.

“She’s quite stubborn,” said mom with a laugh of the graduate of E.S. Champlain, then only at her halfway mark. “She won’t let go if there are still lots of people running.”

Always the mother, Francoeur was more concerned with the pragmatics, perhaps not the sexiest of conversations to enjoy, but a necessity, none the less.

“It’s mostly the feeding – but also making sure she is drinking, making sure that she pees, making sure she has enough salt intake,” said Francoeur. “I can just tell by how she looks.”

Mom was not alone, with other family members on hand and still others handling some pre-race responsibilities.

“I made her some mashed potatoes, my sister made some soup – and we have hummus and some chips and protein bar for her next break,” said Francoeur. “We’re just trying to get protein in her and simple carbs.”

Thirty-year old race winner Michael Rouleau, a young man who was far more well-known for his on-ice hockey prowess than any kind of serious running ability in his youth, also approached nutrition as a key to his strategy this weekend.

But his pathway as a runner has far more too it than just that.

“It started with just running five kilometres (when Covid hit) and wondering if I could run ten - and then wondered if I could run a half (marathon),” said Rouleau. “That turned into a marathon, then 50 km, then 80 and 100 – and now 160 km.”

“That’s kind of the evolution – I started with a run around the block.”

And like most, there was little if any knowledge of what a Backyard Ultra even was – but now he knows.